Keep Calm and Wolf On
by lil-lover16
Summary: Stiles is a human. Really, he's the ONLY human. Even Lydia Martin has some sort of power. Stiles isn't really a pack member, just the puppy who trails on the heels of the pack. Someone surprising shows him what he's truly worth. Rated T for language because I'm paranoid. Also STEREK slash. Angsty, but funny.
1. Chapter 1

I really hope people like this. I'm still rather new to Teen Wolf, as I have just finished the second season. Thanks to Hurricane Sandy, I got to watch about twenty episodes of Teen Wolf and got addicted. This is STEREK meaning BOY/BOY, people. Don't like, don't read. Constructive critisism is welcome, as well as praise obviously;) ENJOY!

**Keep Calm and Wolf On**

Chapter One: Everyone Loves (Hates) Me

Derek Hale grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be a lamp, and chucked it at the wall adjacent him. Anger boiled up in his veins and his claws extended. He shook with rage as his uncle, Peter Hale, watched on.

"You know they're coming. And they know where you live," Peter said, only half paying attention to Derek's hissy fit. "Why aren't you running?"

"You know why, Peter!" Derek shouted, the crumbling house's ashy walls shaking. "You know that once you start running, you can't stop. You know I told Boyd and Erica that, and now…"

"Now they're either dead because the Alpha pack killed them, or they died running. Either way, you couldn't have really thought they'd survive on their own. They were Omegas the minute they left you," Peter explained lightly. His head cocked to one side. "Well, you'd better put a shirt on and get this place cleaned up. We have company."

"Alphas?" Derek asked as he quickly threw on a dark grey t-shirt.

"No. Four teenaged lax bros," Peter smiled. "Lydia's teaching me slang. Reluctantly, perhaps, but I'm learning fast."

Derek rolled his eyes irritably. He padded quietly to the front door of the charred foyer and swung the door open to reveal Stiles Stilinski, Jackson Whittemore, Isaac Lahey, and Scott McCall.

"What?" Derek snarled, and he swore he heard Jackson whimper in fear. Derek's lips twitched at the corners.

"I smell food, do you have food?" Stiles asked, pushing his way past Derek, who tipped his head, watching the boy pass him in a confused daze.

"It smells like a barbeque," Stiles mused.

"That's because the place burned down idiot," Jackson hissed, trying to make up for the pitiful sound he made when Derek answered the door.

"Oh, yeah…" Stiles muttered. "Whoops."

"Stiles, good to see you," Peter grinned.

"Ah, yeah, it's good to see…uh…myself… too. Yeah," Stiles mumbled, looking away from Peter carefully. Ever since Peter had offered Stiles the bite, he'd been wary of the older Hale man.

Isaac followed Jackson and Stiles' footsteps into the house and perched himself on the banister. He was silent, smiling softly at Stiles' jokes and Derek's annoyed banter. Scott talked quietly with Peter until another knock interrupted them.

"I GOT IT!" Stiles exclaimed. He scrambled to the door, where Isaac had already opened the door, looking at the porch with wide eyes and mouth agape.

On the porch were the bloodied bodies of Erica and Boyd. They were breathing, but obviously in pain.

"Alphas. They left us here," Erica gritted out, panting wildly.

With the help of Scott and Jackson, the boys carried the two injured werewolves into the house, laying them in the middle of the parlour.

"I think I'm going to take something from Stiles' book and say, 'I told you so' quite obnoxiously," Derek stated. "So… I TOLD YOU SO!"

"That's not very obnoxious, that's just kinda shouty," Stiles pointed out. "But I'm honoured that you tried to reciprocate the effect of my 'I told you so' on Erica and Boyd."

Derek growled at Stiles, who put his hands up defensively.

"Down, puppy," Stiles reprimanded. Peter snickered and Derek shot him an exasperated look.

Isaac was smirking at Stiles, who grinned back as if they had just shared a hilarious joke. Derek felt a tug in his stomach. Something like jealousy. He shook his head and grabbed Stiles' arm, pulling down hard, but not hard enough to break the boy's arm. Stiles collapsed on the floor and grumbled something none too dulcet.

Isaac helped Stiles up, who was still groaning about his arm or something stupid. Derek sneered at him. Stiles stuck out his tongue and Derek had to resist the urge to repeat the action.

"What are you four doing here anyway?" Derek huffed, slumping against the wall.

"Why shouldn't we be?" Stiles asked, shrugging.

"I hate to agree with Stilinski, but we are pack members. Except Stiles," Jackson stated.

"I think that might actually be the first time you've ever said my first name and not called me 'Stilinski' or, 'that weird kid'," Stiles muttered. Erica laughed.

"It's hard not to mock you, Stiles," she grinned. "You're like the pack baby."

"Or it's mother," Isaac stated. "He basically keeps us all sane."

"It's true," Scott sighed. "I dunno where I'd be without this dude."

"As much as I'd love to gush about how awesome Stiles is," Derek interrupted, "I think we need to train for a while. Erica, Boyd, you two can relax for a while. Join us outside when you feel up to it. So, you have thirty minutes to feel better."

The pack groaned.

"Peter, watch over Erica and Boyd while I take the others out for a run. Stiles, go home," Derek smiled mockingly.

Silence fell over the pack and the werewolves that weren't injured left, leaving Stiles alone with Erica, Boyd, and Peter.

"He hates me," Stiles said quietly, sitting on the worn couch across from Peter.

"No, he just doesn't want to admit how much he needs you," Peter explained with a small grin. "He's stubborn that way. He wants everyone to love him like they love you."

Stiles smiled. "Thanks, Peter."

"You sure you don't want the bite, kiddo?" Peter asked again. Stiles tensed.

"I can't say I don't. But, after everything that happened, I think it'll just make things more complicated," Stiles murmured.

"You're probably right. But, maybe for once you could do something just for you," Erica suggested.

"No. I can't. My dad needs me to be… well, human. I can't leave him every full moon. If I become a werewolf, I will have to face the same problems that you guys do, and if something happens to my dad, I don't know what I would do," Stiles said, standing. "I should go home, like Derek said."

Stiles slunk off, making his way to his Jeep in the yard in front of the Hale house. He spotted Scott, Jackson and Isaac all sparring, claws extended, but not completely wolfed out. Jackson was bleeding in several places, claw marks covering his naked torso, sweat shining on his forehead and across his chest. Not that Stiles was looking. Nope.

Isaac was grinning smarmily, Scott scrunching his eyebrows in the way he always did when he was focused. It must have been two against one, Isaac and Scott versus Jackson. Derek was barking orders at Jackson, who seemed to shake with rage and the desire to please his Alpha.

Stiles was halfway to his Jeep when he heard his name. when he looked over Derek was holding Jackson in a head lock, teaching him the proper way to get out. Scott and Isaac were walking over to the dark-haired human.

"Where are you going?" Scott asked, tilting his head in a puppyish way.

"Home. Derek doesn't really need me here, so I'm just gonna get started on the summer assignments we got," Stiles said with a small smile.

"Everyone knows you already finished those," Scott said quietly. "You okay, dude?"

"Fine. Go back and train. Derek looks pissed. Of course, he pretty much always looks that way," Stiles said.

Scott chuckled and left, heading back to Derek.

"I know what you feel. Lonely. Mad. Wondering if the next battle we have will be your last. I also know that you're tired of being the last one to know about pack things. You want to be like us, but you know Derek won't let you," Isaac stated.

"You're right, I do think those things," Stiles sighed, running a hand over his buzzed hair. "But you forgot one thing."

"What is that?"

"It could be worse for me," Stiles said with a weak grin. He hopped in his Jeep and drove away.

He parked at the curb of the sidewalk in front of his house and jumped out. His father's police car wasn't there, which wasn't unusual, but a familiar black Mustang was there in his driveway.

"Why are you here, Derek?" Stiles grumbled, mostly to himself, but he knew Derek would hear him. Supernatural werewolf powers seemed to entitle the pack to listen in on any conversation.

Stiles stepped into his house, shutting the door behind him. He kicked off his shoes. He could feel Derek's eyes on the back of his neck. He shuddered from a blast of icy anticipation rushing up his spine.

"Why did you leave?" Derek's voice asked. Stiles turned to face blood red eyes, Derek's Alpha form.

"Because you told me to," Stiles said.

"You never do anything I tell you to do," Derek said with an incredulous arch of his eyebrow. "Why did you leave?"

Stiles sighed. He shrugged and tried to pass Derek, but the older man's arm whipped out and caught Stiles in the middle of his chest.

Stiles went ridged as Derek circled him.

_Like a wolf circling its prey,_ Stiles thought, his breath leaving his lungs in a gasp of realization.

"You think I'm going to hurt you." It wasn't a question. Derek knew exactly what he was saying, and what Stiles was feeling. Anxiety probably radiated off him.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Stiles," Derek said. Something in his voice had changed and Stiles looked up at the taller man, whose hand had suddenly found itself on Stiles' shoulder. "You want the bite, don't you?"

Stiles yanked his shoulder away. "No. I don't want it."

Derek smiled condescendingly. "Yes you do. You're heart—"

"I know. My heart skipped a beat. Peter already told me that," Stiles grumbled.

"Peter?" Derek growled. "Peter tried to bite you?"

"When he was the Alpha and going on his crazy killing sprees, yes. He was trying to repay me," Stiles muttered.

"Repay you for what?" Derek snarled.

"For helping him find Scott. And you. I had to or he would've killed me and Lydia and probably my dad, too."

Derek paced around the foyer. "I know you wouldn't do it on purpose."

"It's funny 'cause you always act like I did something stupid, when in fact, I'm usually saving your stupid werewolf ass," Stiles snapped.

Derek raised an eyebrow at him. "Not always."

"Yes I do! I'm constantly helping—"

"I mean," Derek cut in sharply, "that I don't always think you do stupid things. You're usually the only level-headed one when something goes wrong."

Stiles opened and closed his mouth a couple times. "I— thanks."

"Just don't expect me to say that ever again," Derek grinned. "It took a lot of energy to conjure that statement and still have my badass, brooding persona."

Stiles chuckled, running his hand over his hair. He heard brakes squeaking on the pavement outside.

"It's probably my dad, you should go," Stiles said, managing to keep his hands at his side even though they were itching to shove Derek out the back door.

Derek shrugged. "Technically, I'm not an alleged murderer anymore, so… no thanks. I think I'll stay here with you. Plus I can smell Scott and Isaac coming. We'll have a nice big dinner with your dad."

"What I meant was, 'please leave or I'll shoot you myself'," Stiles said, forgetting politeness and shooing Derek out the back.

"Fine. Bye, Stiles," Derek huffed, leaping out the back door just as the front door opened with a click.

"Stiles?" Sheriff Stilinski called.

"In the dining room, Dad," Stiles called, grabbing his Chemistry book and pretended to read from it.

"Ah, still doing your summer assignments? I thought you'd have had it done by now. Teacher gave you more than usual?" Mr. Stilinski asked, grabbing a glass and filling it with water from the tap.

"Ah, yeah. Mr. Harris hasn't exactly forgotten that time that you kinda arrested him," Stiles muttered with a wry grin.

"Oh, well, oops," Mr. Stilinski shrugged, taking a gulp of water. "Are you almost done? I was thinking we could watch that movie you were talking about. The Revengers?"

"Avengers, Dad, but you're close enough!" Stiles said grinning. "I'm basically done. It was just reading stuff. like, eight chapters , you know."

It wasn't exactly a lie. Mr. Harris _had _gone a little overboard with their summer assignment, but Stiles had already finished all his summer work in the first week.

"Alright, you get the popcorn, I'll get the M&M's," the Sheriff smiled.

Ringing filled the room and Mr. Stilinski checked his pocket. He answered.

"Sheriff Stilinski… yes… okay… do you know who? Not yet… no…"

Stiles waited for the impending, 'be right there'. It always came sooner rather than later.

"Alright, I'll be right there," Sheriff Stilinski sighed, hanging up. "That was Angela from the station. There was an accident on the highway. I'll call you if I get the chance to come home, okay, kid?"

"Yeah, fine," Stiles mumbled, dropping the popcorn packet back in the pantry.

"I'm real sorry, kiddo. I'll—"

"—make it up to you. I know, Dad. See you tomorrow," Stiles said.

Sheriff Stilinski left with a sigh. The minute the door closed behind his father, Stiles let the tears fall. Every night. Same thing happened. There was an accident, a murder, homicide, something.

"When did this town get so exciting?" Stiles sighed, chuckling dryly to himself.

"Tell me about it," Derek's voice moaned.

Stiles shook his head. Of course Derek would stay _right_ outside his back door and come _right _back in after Stiles' dad left.

"Leave me alone, Derek," Stiles hissed, walking away from the older man's voice and scrambling up the stairs. He slammed the door to his room and slid down the carpeted floor. He sobbed quietly, his head in his hands, his lips trembling with the effort to keep quiet.

Derek's head hung down, his shin touching his chest as he listened to Stiles' heartbreaking sobs. He knew the boy wanted to be alone, but he didn't want to leave.

Upstairs, Stiles was searching for his phone. He found that he had one text message from Scott.

'Hey, man, Allison wanted to talk to me. Wish me luck! We can do a Halo marathon tomorrow or something, okay? Later!'

With a gut-wrenching sob, or maybe it was a shriek, Stiles hurled his phone at the wall. He heard the screen crack, but he felt too angry to care. He was alone. Scott had Allison, Lydia had Jackson, his dad had work, even Derek had Isaac and Peter, possibly even Erica and Boyd. He was just the little human tag-along. He was just the useless, annoying, ADD and hyperactive little pisser who decided to follow at the heels of Scott and Lydia and, fuck, even Derek.

Stiles cried. He cried until his heart felt like it had been ripped out of his chest. He cried like it was the day his mother died. Sobbed until his eyes were red-rimmed and lifeless.

Downstairs, Derek waited until the sobs tapered off. Till he could hear Stiles' steady heartbeat in his head, telling him the younger boy was fast asleep. Only then did he venture upstairs, finding Stiles in a huddled heap next to the door, his cheeks tear-stained and blotchy. He picked up the boy carefully, paused as Stiles nuzzled closer to his body, and set the teenager on his bed, pulling the covers up to his chin.

He didn't leave until he heard the Sheriff return home at four in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey! So, I know it's been a while, but I promise to make the next chapter even more super awesome in return for the lateness of this, and for how short it is. Cause it's really short. Hope you guys enjoy! Please review! They're like crack to me!;)

Chapter Two: Run This Town

When Stiles woke up, he noticed two things: 1. He wasn't on his floor like he had been when he fell asleep, and 2. His bed was dipping on the other side.

Stiles poked the person who was causing his comfy bed to incline. It wasn't Derek; the boy on the other side was blond, curly-haired and lanky. Isaac.

"Isaac, the hell you doing here?" Stiles mumbled sleepily. He pulled the covers off the sleeping werewolf, who emitted a loud snuffle of disappointment as he was woken up. Isaac turned to grin tiredly at Stiles, who just glared at the blond.

"Derek dropped me here at around five a.m.," Isaac explained, rubbing his ice blue eyes. "Scott wasn't home and his mom was at work, so I felt like I was intruding when I was at their house. So, I went to Derek's, but he said that there wasn't really a place to sleep, and, I mean, who _would_ want to sleep there. Place gives me the creeps."

"So he brought you here?" Stiles huffed.

"Duh," Isaac smirked. "Sorry if I'm kind of intruding on your summer break."

"Nah, dude, it's fine. You're welcome here anytime," Stiles smiled. "You want breakfast? I was gonna make pancakes."

"Derek told me that your dad told him that you're not allowed to cook. Or, well, be in the kitchen while food is being made. He said that you and Scott had done something unmention-able and shudder-inducing. Derek's words, not your dad's." Isaac slipped out of bed with the grace of a wolf and grinned at Stiles boyishly. It was sometimes hard to remember that Isaac was once a lonely kid like Stiles, who until more recently had been beaten by his father. His father who was now dead because of the Kanima.

"You gonna come? I'll make pancakes for us," Isaac chuckled. "Though, I'm not much of a cook myself. You should see Peter. He's like a friggin' Martha Stewart."

"Peter?" Stiles asked, incredulously. He stood and stretched his back carefully, not wanting the bruises that he'd gotten while playing lacrosse to get pushed the wrong way. They were just starting to heal.

"Yeah," Isaac laughed. "He's insanely good. He made this chicken pineapple thing. I swear, that was the best moment of my life."

"Best moment of your life so far," Stiles amended.

Stiles led Isaac down to the kitchen where they found Derek making pancakes.

"I could hear you guys talking about pancakes. I figured I'd make some for the pack. Jackson, Lydia, and Scott will be here soon. Possibly Allison if Scott picks her up, which I'm almost positive he will. Erica and Boyd will be running here as punishment for leaving and trying to come back."

"Harsh. I hate running," Isaac muttered, grabbing an apple from the bowl of fruit on Stiles' dining room table.

The sound of Stiles' front door opening echoed through the house and Scot's voice rang out.

"STILES! ARE YOU AWAKE?" Scott scrambled through the kitchen, completely bypassing Stiles, whom he had almost run over. Scott paused when he hit the stairs and turned, frowning at the sight of Isaac, who was falling asleep on Derek's shoulder as the older man made chocolate chip pancakes and stared reproachfully at Isaac's head.

Scott padded into the kitchen and rubbed sleep out of his eyes.

"Hey," Stiles said softly. "You didn't have to yell."

Scott rolled his eyes. "Well, normally you aren't up at seven am. I have to wake you up with a bullhorn half the time."

"Yeah, but I had company," Stiles said, shooting a looked at Derek and Isaac. The young blond gave Stiles a sleepy smirk.

"Incorrigible," Stiles muttered to himself.

"Huh?" Scott's head tipped to the side like a confused puppy dog.

"Never mind," Stiles huffed. "Why did you need me awake at this time?"

"Oh! Well it was about my date with Allison last night," Scott blushed, looking down at his toes like they were the most interesting thing in the world.

"OH!" Stiles grinned. "Did you get it in?"

"Okay, please shut up now, or I'm seriously going to vomit into your pancakes," Derek grumbled as he shoved Isaac's head off his shoulder and the boy crumpled to the floor in a snoring heap.

Scott frowned at Isaac, who was blinking his eyes rapidly to wake up. "You shouldn't be so mean, Derek." He then turned to Stiles and nodded to the stairs.

Stiles raced behind Scott up the stairs and closed his bedroom door.

"So dude, what happened? I thought you two broke up? When did you get back together exactly?" Stiles asked.

"Slow down, Stiles," Scott stated. "We got back together, but she's not telling her dad. It was two nights ago that we got back together and yes, I've… gone there with her, but that's not the point."

"Then what happened?" Stiles whisper-yelled.

"Well, I just found out that her mom died. She killed herself, but Deaton thinks that she was bitten before she committed suicide. He also thinks Derek did it by accident. Now, why are Isaac and Derek here so early in the morning?"

"Whoa, hold up! Derek bit her?" Stiles gasped. "Dude, that's just… weird."

"Mrs. Argent had tied me up and tried to kill me with those marijuana smoke machines but she filled it with wolfsbane instead of pot. I was too weak to defend myself, so I called for Derek. Well, I howled. You know how it is. But Derek showed up and that's all I remember. I know he was there when I woke up in Deaton's office, and he had gotten hurt. Other than that, everything's kinda hazy."

"When was that?" Stiles asked.

"The night of the rave, why?"

"That's why Allison went all crazy-hunter-killer-nutso on us! The night that the Kanima and Matt locked us up in the police station, she was trying to kill everyone; Derek, Isaac, Boyd, Erica… Jackson. She wanted revenge. Revenge against Derek. It makes sense now!" Stiles exclaimed.

"I guess it makes more sense. But why didn't she try to kill me? I'm part of Derek's pack, too… sort of."

Stiles stared at his best friend blankly, finally giving him a 'why the hell do you think she didn't try to kill you?' look.

"What?" Scott asked.

Stiles knew that Derek was listening. He also knew that the man was most likely rolling his eyes in exasperation at Scott's idiocy.

"Dude, she's like, in love with you. That's why," Stiles eventually said, mentally rolling his eyes and sighing. There was also a face-palm moment in there, but he settled for closing his eyes and breathing it out. Hopefully Scott's IQ of 10 wouldn't rub off on him.

"Oh, yeah, well…" Scott trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. "So… Derek and Isaac?"

"Derek was here last night, just being a douche, and Isaac needed a place to sleep since Derek kicked him out of his terribly grungy half-house half-run-down-shack thing he has in the woods. Typical Derek," Stiles shrugged.

"Ah, well why didn't Isaac sleep at my house? He's basically living with me and my mom," Scott pouted.

"He didn't want to intrude when both of you were out of the house," Stiles explained.

"Oh, too bad, I kind of missed his snoring," Scott sighed.

"Com'on. I want pancakes. Even though Derek probably purposefully burned the crap out of them," Stiles groaned.

"I don't think he would. He doesn't really like fire if you've noticed. Or anything that's burned. Plus, he makes a mean grilled cheese. I only know this because I was totally starving when I was in Deaton's office one day and there was a half a sandwich in his mini-fridge that said 'Derek's food' on it. So I ate it," Scott grinned.

Stiles looked at his friend, wondering if the kid had some sort of death wish.

"You do know we heard pretty much everything you guys said up there," Isaac said through a mouthful of pancakes.

"Oh, uh…" Scott blushed.

Stiles gave up trying to resist mocking his friend and rolled his eyes melodramatically. "Wow, Scott. You and those werewolf senses. You never miss a thing."

"You're just mad that those drag queens at Jungle were giving you some heavy petting," Scott laughed. "And that _I_ got attention from a guy at the bar."

"It did answer my question of whether I was attractive to gay guys, though," Stiles pointed out.

"Yeah. Weird guys who dress in drag seem to adore you," Scott chuckled. Stiles shoved his head into the plate of pancakes.

"Don't play with your food, 'cause I'm not making more," Derek mumbled from across the kitchen. "And Stiles?"

"Hmm?" Stiles asked as he grabbed milk from the fridge. In return, he got his head slammed in the door. "OW! What was—?"

"You _know _what that was for," Derek grumbled, smirking internally.

"You're such a Sourwolf," Stiles huffed, rubbing his head and wincing. Damn werewolves were going to be the death of him.

**AN:** Okay, so really quick I just wanted to say that I am not offended or weirded out by drag queens in any way. I just think that for the purpose of keeping this story mostly realistic and true to the characters that were originally created, Scott is freaked out by them. Glad I cleared that up!


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